


Don't be Mean

by safety_dancer



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safety_dancer/pseuds/safety_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting sucked into taking care of his idiotic brother was Pennyworth's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't be Mean

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny tumblr drabble written for a friend. Enjoy :)

“Okay, how are you actually _still alive_ ,” Damian asked in a loud, condescending voice as he rummaged through his idiotic brother’s _barren_ pantry. Seriously, there was next to nothing in here except some cans of soup, ramen noodle packets, and an unidentified, non-descript box towards the back. Ah, the sad life of an adult on their own.

“I manage,” came Tim’s clipped reply from the living room. Damian rolled his eyes; getting sucked into taking care of his sick brother was all Pennyworth’s fault. Drake had very little sense of self-preservation, apparently, and now Damian was stuck _coddling_ him for the evening.

 _“Don’t be mean,”_ Grayson had told him earlier. _“You know how Tim gets when he’s fevered.”_

 _Moody, whiny, overtired and demanding?_ Damian thought sullenly, reaching for the soup cans.

“Sooo, you gonna actually make me something to eat, or just gripe at me all day?”

 _Don’t be mean, don’t be mean, don’t be mean._ “Have a little patience, your Highness,” Damian muttered, kneeling to grab a small pot from the cabinet, placing it on the stovetop with a rather loud _clang_ , then poured the soup in.

“Try not to burn anything, please and thanks,” Tim called out before he was taken by a short coughing fit.

“You talk too much for a sick person, Drake.”

Damian heard his brother scoff, but at least he finally fell silent. Giving the pot’s contents a quick stir, Damian moved back to the pantry, hoping there was some bread or crackers to go with the pathetic meal. “What’s in the box?” He asked aloud, stretching slightly to reach it, as it had been placed on a higher shelf.

“What box?”

Once he had it in hand, Damian popped open the top, pausing a moment before: “Hey Drake.”

“What?”

“Remember when you were trying to convince Grayson that you were, in fact, a very mature adult?”

“Ye– wait what are you–.”

Damian was shaking with repressed laughter. “Do all _mature adults_ eat animal shaped children’s snacks?”

5, 4, 3, 2-

“First of all, who decides what counts as a _‘children’s snack’_ or an adults?” Tim splutters, righteous indignation tangible in his rough voice. “Second; they– they taste  _amazing_ , so like, shut up?”

Damian was quiet for a moment, the corner of his mouth pulling into a tiny smirk. “Does… does Todd know?”

“Of course not! Do you know how much he would tease me and literally just–” Tim stopped, only his raspy breathing audible before, very quietly: “Damian. Damian no. I will- I’ll- I’ll tell Bruce. Or–”

“Too late,” Damian replied, twisted glee evident in his tone as he sent a quick text to Todd.

“Oh my gosh. I- I hate you? I’m gonna murder you.”

“You can barely walk without feeling dizzy, Drake. Good luck with attempting homicide.”


End file.
